


I'm Allergic to You

by TerrifiedAristocrat



Category: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist
Genre: Alcohol, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 07:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1890420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerrifiedAristocrat/pseuds/TerrifiedAristocrat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Mephisto and Shura use each other for their own gains and then get drunk. Shura obviously lacks an allergy because the red on her face is obviously not hives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Allergic to You

"I’d love to but I’m allergic to morons," Shura remarked, proud of her wit. Mephisto leaned forward on his desk, watching the red head carefully. He hated being turned down, even if it was something as inconsequential as a dinner party. A date wasn’t required for the party, but it was nice to have one and while Shura hated such events so did Mephisto and the devil wanted to suffer with company. 

But getting her there…

"Ah, but there’s free alcohol," Mephisto offered, almost tempting.

"Yeah and there’s free alcohol in my fridge at home," Shura pointed out. "That din’ require me ta deal with stuffy assholes starin’ at my ass,"  Mephisto quirked a brow at the statement, a flurry of remarks building on the tip of his tongue most of which would have sent Shura storming out of his office. On an ordinary day Mephisto would have chosen the ripest one, the one bound to get a bigger reaction out of the exorcist but today he wanted to use her in a different manner. 

Threats were boring. Blackmail only worked if the victim actually cared about her image. Pleading was beneath him. This left only bribery and gambling. 

Surprisingly, Shura was still there, her arms folded under her breasts and an amused look on her face. Mephisto quirked a brow slightly.

"Well c’mon. I’m waitin’" Shura prompted.

"For what?" Mephisto wondered blankly.

"Yer next offer/ plea fer me ta come git drunk witcha," Shura explained. "Not that I’d want ta, yer bein’ … well, yer,"

"Oh? And what is that supposed to mean?" Mephisto wondered.

"Yer a demon. And sort of a dick," Shura shrugged. Mephisto sighed at her terminology. 

"Now now if I was anything like what you say I’d coerce you," Mephisto pointed out.

"No ya wouldn’. That ain’ fun, an’ yer’d get in trouble. Well, what’s left o’ ya," Shura remarked.

"Are you implying you could take me?" Mephisto asked, mirth quirking into his voice.

"Please. I could take yer anytime," Shura smirked, her pride nearly palpable. Mephisto felt his grin grow, full of teeth and promises. Prideful humans were the best.  "You wanna right now-"

"Oh no no no, I want to take you to a dinner party," Mephisto shook his head, smirking at the obvious double entendre in her words. "Although if you continue taunting me you just may get your wish…"

"Hmph. I ain’ goin’ ta yer party unless I get somethin’ outta it," Shura looked grumpy again. Mephisto sighed, wondering what she’d look like in an evening dress- a proper one, not something she was half falling out of.

"And you think I have something of interest to you?" Mephisto stated.

"Yep." Shura nodded calmly. "I wanna investigate without yer interferin’," Mephisto’s grin dropped.

"I can’t let you do that," he shook his head.

"Oh and why not?" Shura wanted to know.

"If I told you that now it would ruin all the fun," Mephisto pointed out simply. Shura scowled. She looked funny when she scowled- her brow would scrunch up and her usually full lips would press themselves together into a tight line. Sometimes her eyes got that dangerous glint in them that did terrible things to Mephisto’s self control. "But! If you attend this party with me, then afterwards I’ll let you snoop all you’d like in my office. I won’t even hide a thing!" 

"Really." Shura’s angry look melted into one of disbelief. Mephisto bit back a chuckle.

"You almost look like you don’t believe me," he remarked.

"Gee I wonder why." Shura retorted sarcastically. 

"Why would I break my word?" Mephisto asked.

"Why would you hide spies? Why would you do anything you do?" Shura pointed out. "Everything you do seems to be for your own entertain-"

"Ah-ha, so you’re catching on! I’ll meet you at five this evening? In front of your apartment, of course. Please wear something presentable." Mephisto smoothed over Shura with the gentle smirk of triumph plastered across his face. Shura looked like she wanted to hit him, but she stormed out of his office instead. Mephisto rested his chin in a hand, thinking. What, if anything, did he want her to uncover tonight….

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Mephisto wasn’t sure what he’d meant by ‘something presentable’. For one thing, Shura looked very attractive in her evening dress- it was a dark shade of navy and long with a slit going up far past her thigh- but Mephisto had a feeling she’d be stared at all night and that thought irritated him just ever so slightly. He preferred to be the center of attention after all. Still, she was there, outside her apartment with a scowl on her poppy-red lips, which meant she’d accepted their agreement. This knowledge alone brought a wide grin to Mephisto’s face. He’d have some fun!

"Can we get this over with?" Shura asked crossly.

"You look far too lovely to be in such a foul mood," Mephisto chided gently,  taking her hand and kissing it as a gentleman should. Shura remained unaffected. Unperturbed, Mephisto twirled around and gestured towards his limo with just the right amount of flourish.

"Shall we?"

"Hm." Shura nodded, following Mephisto into his ride. She was quiet and almost bored looking for the ride to the party, keeping her legs crossed and her gaze uninterested. Mephisto whistled cheerily. Shura drummed her nails. 

What was amusing (or annoying) was that Shura’s look of annoyance didn’t lift even as they entered the party, a swirling mass of finely dressed humans swaddling themselves in wealth and influence to keep warm. Then again, her annoyed look could have something to do with Mephisto’s insistence on staying close to her or dancing with her often. It was only right after all. She was his date, not someone else’s. And she was enjoyable to dance with- her body seemed to slide along with his, her feet went in all the right places, her hands were firm but not overbearing. 

As the party wound down Mephisto realized he may have more of a problem than he’d initially thought- he had intended on Shura drinking herself into a senseless stupor and then passing out on his couch or even better in the limo home. Now to be fair, Shura did drink some alcohol but not nearly as much as Mephisto had expected/hoped. She knew exactly what she was doing because every once in a while if she caught him looking she’d smirk at him from around the full rim of her wine glass. Mephisto’s plan was by no means ruined though. This just meant he’d have to be more creative. 

"Are we done yet?" Shura asked blankly, sashaying over to Mephisto. "My feet hurt," 

"Well, if your feet hurt then we must be on our way. Can’t have blisters now can we," Mephisto replied easily. Shura rolled her eyes and set a half-full glass of wine down on a nearby table. "Nothing for the road, my dear?"

"Don’t call me that," Shura grumbled. 

"Why not? You’re my date," Mephisto pointed out.

"It sounds wrong coming out of your mouth," Shura replied calmly, already heading for the door. If Mephisto didn’t know better it almost looked like she was running away. With a slight hum Mephisto bid his farewells to the morons who invited him and followed his errant date.

She looked less annoyed on the ride home. In fact, a look of satisfaction had settled on her face as she drummed her fingers on her knee lightly. Mephisto was quiet, watching her.  Her confidence rolled off of her in waves mixed with cockiness and pride. She thought she’d won?  How cute.

The scent of alcohol that came off of her made Mephisto slightly hopeful as he lead her to his office. The hallways were dark, the moonlight shining through windows eerily. If any lower level demons were around, they found other places to be that evening, which was fine with Mephisto. He wanted a distraction yes, but he’d rather be the distraction.

Shura got to work quickly, heading for Mephisto’s desk and taking no time in pulling open his drawers. Mephisto sat on the couch in his office and sprawled slightly, watching. Shura had a nice, focused look on her face, occasionally tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She’d managed to keep all her lipstick on, which looked attractive on her. Shura licked her finger and filtered through Mephisto’s papers quickly, hardly reading them. Mephisto listened to her tap his desk for false bottoms, only mildly surprised when she found them. She picked the locks to each one, pulling bobby pins out of her hair to assist. By the time she was finished her hair was only being held in place by a nice hair tie, cascading around her face in half-hairsprayed waves.

After ten minutes Mephisto grew bored. Shura wasn’t really moving -apparently she’d found something of interest. Mephisto approached his desk calmly and leaned over.

"Found a good read?" He wondered blandly.

"Mmhm." Shura nodded, holding a bobby pin in her mouth and chewing on it casually. 

"What a pity," Mephisto sighed, snapping his fingers and sending the particular file to his personal office. Shura glared up at him.

"Hey! Give that back," she snapped.

"Nope," Mephisto shrugged. He didn’t know what the file was. In honest, he didn’t care. The enraged look on Shura’s face was worth it. "Did you really think I’d reveal everything to you this early?"

"Do you think this is some sort of game?" Shura demanded.

"Of course it is! Everything is!" Mephisto replied with a wide grin. 

"You’re crazy." Shura muttered, standing up straight. "I guess I’m not getting anything else out of you," 

"Hmm you should have realized that early on, but I guess if this world didn’t have stubborn humans like you things would be boring," Mephisto drawled, watching Shura straighten out her dress ( it looked velvety and shimmered a bit in the lighting) and walk away from his desk. Last minute she turned and went back to his desk, picking up another file. Mephisto leaned over her shoulder, reading.

"Get off of my shoulder," Shura ordered.

"Get out of my office," Mephisto replied.

"Make me," Shura taunted.

"I shall," Mephisto whispered, grinning at the light shudder that rolled down the exorcist. "You’ll be running from this place as if your life depended on it,"

"Is that a threat?" Shura turned to face Mephisto, her nose brushing against his lightly and an unreadable look on her face. It wasn’t difficult to kiss her- she was right there practically begging him to- and Mephisto didn’t find himself disappointed. Shura slid neatly into his hands and stayed there, fighting for dominance in their kiss and most assuredly losing. Mephisto rid himself of a glove, sliding his bare hand  up Shura’s back. Her dress was velvet, or at least a close imitation and felt pleasant against his palms, as did Shura’s skin. Mephisto let her breathe, watching with amusement as Shura tried to regain her breath and dignity. She’d regained neither when Mephisto went for her neck.

"Fuck! Dammit," Shura hissed, grabbing Mephisto’s hair roughly. Despite her almost abusive pulling Mephisto was gentle when he nicked her skin and casually lapped at her blood- human blood wasn’t addicting or necessary but it was nice to partake in every once in a while.  It was quite nice tasting especially since Shura was rather  riled up. 

"What a dirty mouth you have," Mephisto remarked against Shura’s skin- it was rather soft and the lotion she’d used had a pleasant aroma and taste to it (patchouli?). Shura yanked Mephisto’s head up and kissed him roughly, biting and sucking and leaning on him enough for the demon to justify squeezing her hip in retaliation. 

Shura pulled back, staring at Mephisto with a combined look of anger, arousal and confusion. 

"I’m too sober for this shit," she whispered hoarsely, backing away from Mephisto quickly. "Fuck." with this last expletive Shura hurried out of Mephisto’s office, making great pace even in her uncomfortable heels. 

Mephisto leaned on his desk and laughed. There was probably lipstick all over his face, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. That woman never ceased to amaze him. 


End file.
